A year in the life of Elvis
by Ailytha Akemeti
Summary: Everyone's read stories about Puck and Sabrina, and most of the Grimm gang - but has anyone ever gave any thought to the family dog?
1. AN

Hi guys!

My first fic!

Anyway, I don't own anything, the chapter lengths vary, TELL ME if I suck and happy reading!

Thank you guys for the reviews! They really mean a lot to me.

UPDATE: As of today (29/01/10), this story's going to be on hold for an indefinite amount of time. (Translation: I'm in NZ and school's almost about to start) Also, a shout out to my friend Sah, who popped champagne with me when I found out that people actually liked my writing. :)


	2. Sausages

1 JAN

"PUCK!"

Nothing escaped that girl. Not even the goop of peanut butter the flying boy had mixed into the older Grimm girl's tomato sauce. I must say, that was quite genius. Catch her while she's half asleep!

Though it was a horrible waste of perfectly good peanut butter, it could've been worse. At least this time nothing was in her hair

Granny Grimm was stirring what smelt like extremely fruity syrup. Hmm. Cherries, I think. Uncle Grimm was flipping the most normal food I'd smelt in weeks – pancakes. I was looking over the breakfast already served on the table when I saw them.

The devils delight.

A whole plate of them.

Right next to the tomato sauce.

I leaped onto the polished wood, quickly losing traction but determined to get my fangs into the beautiful food I saw, right in the middle of the table, served on a flowery patterned dish.

"Elvis!"

I ignored the little red girl. The plate was mine.

"No!"

Uncle Grimm's cry was long and drawn out, so it sounded more like 'Nuuuuuuuuu'

Talk about an epic moment.

My mouth clamped down on as many of them as I could, before I bolted off the table and up the stairs, into the girl's room.

They were finally mine!

I sank my teeth into the meaty breakfast delicacy, enjoying the slightly salty, slightly sweet taste of my absolute favourite food.

Sausages.


	3. Squirrel

JAN 2

Like they would let me back in the house after THAT incident. I do feel sorry though. Now the girls have to share a room with granny and the creepy fake faces she likes to hang up in her room.

Here I am now, patrolling around our back yard. I figured that while I was out here I might as well do something useful. There were still a few Fairytalers around that still wanted my family pushing up daisies, even after that whole Big War shenanigan. I wouldn't put it past them to attack from the woods.

Hup, two, three, sniff.

Hup, two, three, sniff.

Hup, two, three – what's this? I had caught the scent of what smelt like a squirrel. Now, there are Fairytalers that are animals or shapeshifters, so I had to go investigate.

The scent was easy to follow, it being one of the very few fresh scents. Even the flying boy hadn't been out here in a while.

I was quickly catching up to the little rodent. I followed its trail and scent to a hollow in a tree. There it was! A red furred, female squirrel. About a hind leg length long. Chewing on what appeared to be a peanut. It dropped its snack when I poked my head in, and squealed in terror.

I was just about to dismiss it as a normal rodent when it suddenly occurred to me that it was the middle of winter. Of course! No natural squirrel would be out and about at this time of year, they would be hibernating. So with that thought, I swiftly picked up the squirrel by its tail, careful not to crush it with my teeth. Then I ran all the way back to the front porch, howling through my teeth.


	4. Yawn

JAN 3

Snap.

My jaws clamped back together after a real satisfying yawn.

Apparently, the squirrel I found WAS a Fairytaler. It's tied up right now in one of those magic sucking cagey thingies 'cause it tried to bite the older Grimm sister's neck. Talk about subtlety.

I never did understand what it was with all these Fairytalers and magic; let alone what it had to do with my family. All I knew was that they wanted to hurt my family, and if they wanted to hurt MY family, they're no good.

The squirrel was kicking and shrieking its little head off. I gave it a couple of barks and a good ol' long growl. It quietened down immediately.

As I was saying. I just do what I know I can: to help granny Grimm and her little ones when they're out trying to help the few good Fairytalers left.

"Elvis! Get the little rascal over here. We have some questioning to do!"

Oh no. Granny was talking in her 'we're in the middle of a mystery!' voice.

This is going to be a long day.


	5. Hats

JAN 4

Hi-hi-hi my names Elvis what's yours?

Ooh, hello you smell funny!

"Elvis! That's terribly rude of you, to snap at strangers!"

I sighed heavily. This is what I get for trying to be friendly.

We were out on a mission, as usual, trying to find the squirrel's owner. I think its completely pointless. So what if we DO find the owners? Its not like they would want the squirrel BACK. And to top it off, we would probably end up running for our lives, AGAIN, by noon.

"Granny, what if the owner of this, uh, thing is a leftover from the Scarlet Hand? Or some other evil cult that wants us out of town?"

I sighed even more heavily. The blonde girl was meant to be the smart one. There were no ifs or buts. This person wanted to hurt us, and she, of all people, would know after having to slap that goopy stuff on her neck.

"Then we do what we do best"

"Wait. How are detective skills meant to help when you're preparing a knuckle sandwich?"

The flying boy was right. But I think what granny meant was –

"Our escaping skills, doofhead"

What she said. Anywho, by this time granny was pulling out the notes she took from the little 'interview' she had with the squirrel. The poor thing would be traumatized for life.

"Lets see. It said something about hats. Who in this town frequently wears a hat?"

"Mrs Grimm, I don't think that's going to help. There are at least fifty Everafters we would have to go through."

The little red one was right.

"Alright then, let's narrow this down to the first possibility. Who in this town has some kind of connection to hats?"

"For example?"

"Oh I don't know. They own too many hats, they're obsessed with hats, they named their hat-"

"Old lady, you're just describing the Mad Hatter"

"But I thought it was only his name? Last time we saw him he wasn't that obsessed with hats."

I yawned. This would go on for a while.

About three yawns later, they concluded to go find the Mad Hatter

The rest you can kind of picture. We knock, we annoy, we recommend asylum, and we end up running for our lives. All by noon.

By the time we got to the car, the flying boy had acquired several bruises, I was in a growling fit, and the girls were scratched and tired from kicking Mad Hatter bu- you get the idea. All I have to say today is: All in a day's work.


	6. Sneeze

JAN 5

ACHOO.

Ugh. I hated the musty smell of old fabric in this place. How we even ended up in this storeroom would take me an age to explain. In a nutshell, we annoyed someone again, and they padlocked the door. Even worse, I wasn't even with my dear old granny, but stuck with the two 'teenagers' as they called it.

"Puck! Get your foot OFF me!"

Did I mention that it was a very, very small storeroom?

"Grimm, I'll try to untangle my foot when you get OFF me!"

"That's you?"

"Just- just move"

As the girl attempted to (in vain) move off the flying boy, she slowly squashed me against the wall. I gave a whimper, and then a yelp as she flipped around- and landed face to face on the flying boy.

"Elvis? Please tell me that I got off Puck and landed on you"

I gave a woof. Not there, sorry.

"That was mean of you, Grimm! You almost killed the poor dog just pushing on him, and you're suggesting you'd rather smother him than land on my Greatness"

"Since when did you call OTHER people mean?"

Oh boy. All hell had broken loose. This was going to be a long, long day...


	7. Snow

JAN 6

After that awkward experience in the storeroom, the two older kids couldn't even look at each other without turning into tomatoes. Kind of embarrassing, really. You'd think a spell had been put over them.

I relaxed myself and leaned on the little Grimm. It was nice to just sit here on the porch and enjoy the snowy sight that was January.

Splat.

Oh no.

Why did they have to ruin this for me every time?

"YOU DID NOT, GRIMM"

"I SO DID"

"You WILL fall under the mighty rule of the Trickster King, unworthy one!"

There they are now, having another one of their ridiculous snow fights, just so they could show how much they hated each other.

Well, there's a very thin line between love and hate, and they were, little by little, crossing that line. They did not realise it yet, as it was still subconscious to them, but in time, they would become inseparable.

I sighed. These children made me feel so old. But still, I hoped that my little Grimm wouldn't rush growing up.

"_Lieblings_! Come in for lunch now, I made fish and chips!"

I enthusiastically followed the brown haired girl as she rushed into the dining room, wondering which faraway reef the fish was bought from and which exotic country the tubers were imported from. More importantly, how they tasted together and if they would poison someone.

A wiser part of my mind was telling me that even if two things were from two corners of two entirely different worlds, if they felt good together, then no amount of bad luck could make you _not_ want to go ahead having them together. The fairy boy and blond girl were proof of that theory.


	8. Food

JAN 7

It was a boring winter's day, and everyone but the older Grimm girl and the flying boy were out food shopping. Knowing granny, that meant visiting several states. I didn't like the fairy that much, so I went after the blonde girl. Apparently she didn't mind me following her around, so I did.

She went outside to sit on the porch, and I joined her. By the blank look on her face, I could tell she was mulling over a problem. I rested my head in her lap and she started to stroke my back absentmindedly.

She was murmuring to herself something about her parents, Fairytalers, decisions, and the flying boy.

I looked up at her. She looked at me and said, "Elvis, what would you do If you were me? If you had to choose between two worlds?" She sighed. "Here I have the Everafters, Granny Relda, being a detective, and, to admit it, half my family. But there I have human society, my parents, safety and comfort."

One factor came into my mind. One that could have a very big effect on the closely balanced scale. I gave a woof and looked past her shoulder, into the house. She turned her head, and her eyes landed on the fairy.

"Puck? Where does he fit in all of this? Oh, you mean he's the downside to here? Good point"

I shook my head as vigorously as I could, and I ran down into the snow. She followed me like I wanted her to, and looked very surprised when I drew one word. Probably because she realised I could write. Then she read the actual word. "No," She shook her head. I looked at her, eyes questioning.

After a long staring contest, she caved. "Alright. Maybe I do care a little. But that's it."

I grinned. Even the most stubborn have their weaknesses. This is why I love being a dog.


	9. Hobbies

JAN 8

"PUCK FOR THE LOVE OF SANITY, PUT ME DOWN"

"Who said I loved sanity in the first place?"

I looked up with an amused dog-smile to see the blonde girl being flown out the window by the flying boy.

"Puck! Where are you taking Sabrina?"

Granny actually sounded like she was _surprised. _You would think after so long that she would get used to the fairy's, err, _hobbies. _

"Oh, just out for some fresh air"

"Alright then, be back by lunch"

When the boy had just started playing pranks on the eldest Grimm girl, granny was appalled. But after the three or four years since then, she had gotten used to it.

What had used to be punishment on the flying boy's part had turned into letting the girl sort it out on her own.

I heard some cursing and profanity outside, and decided to go have a look.

Getting up from my comfortable place on the rug, I sauntered out the door and looked out over Ferryport Landing.

Pretty soon I spotted them soaring, dipping, and somersaulting all over town. The fairy seemed to be enjoying it immensely, while by what I could tell from her screams, the blonde Grimm wanted to rip his head clean off his shoulders.

I yawned and went back inside. Maybe the little Grimm was in a better mood today.


	10. AN: Sorry

A/N

I'm sorry. I really am. But time has passed since I was last working on this, and I've lost enthusiasm along the way. When I have time, I'll go re-read the series. But it's been over a year since I last read a book from the series and my interest is fuzzy.

I'm sorry to disappoint you all with an A/N chapter. I really hate myself for doing this, but even if I did carry on with this, the chapters would just get worse and worse. I think this is healthier :)

Extremely sorry.


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